Page 85 of The Question of Us
Lee ripped the tape from his mouth, cut his ankle ties, and set to work releasing Gazza’s hands and feet. That done, he started shuffling our direction. Freeing Aaron and me would be the most dangerous part of the whole operation since we lay directly in front of the open door. If Jack or Ronnie happened to look at the wrong time, it would all be over.
Lying on the floor as if he was still tied, Gazza kept watch on the guards while Lee set to work, starting with me.
“Really? You carry a blade on your damn choker?” I whispered as Lee worked.
He huffed over my shoulder, “Let’s just say I’ve found it wise to come prepared for anything at one of Marty’s parties.”
I said nothing, pretty sure I didn’t want to know the why of that, at least not right then.
When he’d finished with me, Lee moved on to Aaron, beginning with his hands. He’d only just freed them and was moving toward his brother’s feet when Gazza hissed a low warning, “Incoming.”
My gaze jerked up to find Jack heading toward us.Shit. Shit. Shit.I glanced back at Aaron, who’d frozen with the duct tape pulled halfway off his mouth. His feet, at least, were still tied. I signalled for him to press the tape back in place, then used my feet to slide a discarded piece of tape Lee’s way.
Lee did the best he could with it, then turned his face toward the concrete floor to hide the clumsy fix. With his knees bent and his untied ankles tucked up behind him, he might just pass. It was too late to wonder what he’d done with the damn blade. I could only trust he had it safely hidden.
Gazza tucked his legs up in the same way as Lee, and although he didn’t have to worry about the tape, I wasn’t so lucky. I fumbled my own piece back over my mouth and then got in position. Our clumsy subterfuge wouldn’t fool anyone for long, but it was better than nothing. Odds were, Jack wouldn’t give us more than a cursory glance before leaving again.
Yeah, right. If only we’d been so lucky.
The minute Jack stepped into the barn, his gaze swept over the four of us but lingered on Gazza, his frown deepening, like he was trying to process what was different. He stepped toward Gazza and a discarded cable tie clicked under his boot.
My heart leaped into my throat and my gaze locked on Lee’s equally wide-eyed stare as we waited for the guard to look down. Waited for it all to be over.
Miraculously, Jack kept moving and kicked the toe of his boot into Gazza’s hip.
Gazza groaned but didn’t open his eyes, his face remaining slack.
Another kick, but Gazza absorbed the second blow as well.
The guy was a fucking hero.
The guard grunted, gave us another once-over, and then headed for Lee who was lying awkwardly on his side with his face turned toward the floor. Dropping to a crouch, Jack ran the muzzle of his gun down the front of Lee’s colourful shirt to his groin, where it came to a stop.
I held my breath.
“So fucking pretty.” Jack licked his lips. “Maybe Marty will hand you over to us when he’s done.” He pushed the barrel hardinto Lee’s tight white trousers and Lee winced. “Let us have a little fun with you.”
Don’t react.I sent a silent message to Lee.Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.
Jack leaned closer to Lee’s face and Lee turned his head toward the floor, his platinum hair falling over the side of his face to effectively hide the messy tape. But the move put him almost on his stomach, threatening to expose the missing ties around his hands and feet.
Thankfully, Jack was on a roll, ignoring Lee’s body to focus on the side of his mostly hidden face. He grinned lasciviously. “Cat got your tongue, motherfucker?” He ran the barrel of the gun back up Lee’s chest to his throat—to the choker. “Marty’s all about recycling around here and I’m sure you’ve got some life in you yet.”
When Lee offered no reaction at all, Jack paused, cocking his head, his frown deepening. Then he peered closer. “What the—” Using the barrel of his gun, he lifted the veil of strawberry-blond hair back from Lee’s face and swore at the sight of the duct tape lying on the floor under the man’s head.
“What the fu—” The rest of the sentence was lost to a scream as Lee spun and sank his teeth around Jack’s nose, producing a satisfying crunch of cartilage and bone. Lee jerked his head and Jack gave another guttural howl, both hands flying to cover his face, his gun skittering across the floor.
Gazza and I both scrambled to get it, but the crack of a gunshot stopped us in our tracks.
“Put your fucking hands where I can see them.” Ronnie swung his gun over the four of us, a disbelieving frown settling on his face when he spotted Gazza crouched on the floor, very much awake. “Jesus Christ.” His gaze swept the concrete floor, which was littered with cable ties. “Fuck me. You okay, Jack?”
Jack staggered upright and lurched to retrieve his gun. “Do I look like I’m fucking okay?” He spun around and Ronnie gasped.
“Holy shit!”
“Holy shit is right.” Jack wiped his face with his shirt and went pale at the wash of blood that smeared the front. “The motherfucker bit my fucking nose.” He landed a heavy boot into Lee’s stomach and Lee grunted, his body almost folding in two.
But instead of crying out, Lee spat blood onto the concrete floor and grinned up at Jack. “Naughty, naughty, Jacko. Marty’s not gonna be happy with you.” He indicated the blood-stained spittle. “That’s yours, not mine, arsehole. I hope you know a good plastic surgeon.”
